The Bee and its Stinger
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [AT] Their window of opportunity had closed, so they smashed a hole through the wall instead.
1. A Long-Held Grudge

**The Bee and its Stinger**

**Chapter 1  
A Long-Held Grudge**

Ken was still mad at him. It was obvious, from the rigid shoulders and the stiff gait and the way he was always at least a metre ahead without looking back. Anyone looking at them would assume they were simply two strangers on a busy road in Tamachi, having never met each other and simply heading for the same destination like many others around them.

And maybe others were. It was a good day for ices after all. Not perfect, but so late in Autumn it was a surprise to find very many warm days at all. And with winter approaching, the opportunities for brain-freezes actually being pleasurable were growing rarer. But it seemed his kid brother was past the age where the temptation of sweets would wash away all ill-feeling.

Osamu sighed and rubbed his temple. He had a slight headache coming on, probably from studying for long periods of time and not sleeping as much as he should be. He really had been looking forward to hanging around with his brother too – but he just had to ruin it by blowing something so little out of proportion.

Obviously, it wasn't so little to Ken though. It was rare for Ken to stay mad at someone, but no-one lacked their breaking point and Ken had obviously been pushed to his. Either that or that little strange device that popped so suddenly out of the computer was far more important than it appeared, but that was near impossible. After all, while Ken had been in his draw and had obviously been playing around with the device, it was inconceivable that he'd managed to figure out its function when Osamu, the genius of the family, had as so far failed to.

Either way though, he was sure it was just Ken's innocent curiosity that led him to take that device from his drawer, and he truly hadn't seen the harm. And what was the harm? Anything breakable was kept beyond his brother's reach anyway, and it wasn't like _he_ had any claim on the thing. So why had he been so angry when he had seen it in his brother's hands? All he could conclude was that it was simply the stress looking for an outlet, a consequence of not spending enough time doing what most kids his age did more of: relaxing. But it had taken more than three days afterwards to coax Ken out of the house with him; he was being unusually stubborn.

This time though, he vowed he would keep his patience and fix this mess. If Ken was mad at him, then there really wasn't any way he _could_ relax, because no-one else would let him. Even their parents saw him as the boy genius instead of a boy who sometimes just needed to chill out, but Ken would just give a doe look and they'd be out on the balcony blowing bubbles or spread across the living room carpet with a board game or running around the park playing soccer. No-one else would do that with him. No-one else _could_ do that with him. And certainly no-one else ever listened to him ranting…though Ken had tried offering his stuffed caterpillar when he was four.

And the fact that he was starting to muddle up simple math calculations spoke very highly about the importance of his relationship with his brother. A silly little device was definitely not worth losing it.

Sadly, Ken didn't seem to see it that way, though that was no surprise. There were only so many times you could blow up on someone without intending to before they start giving back.

'Ken,' he called, seeing the boy about to cross the road. 'Remember to look both sides.'

He wasn't sure whether or not Ken had heard, though he did at least do as he was reminded, making sure there were no cars coming too fast or too close before crossing. Osamu followed, looking both ways himself and wishing Ken had at least waited to hold his hand like he normally did. Still, Ken was eight, almost nine, and probably old enough to cross the road without needing to hold someone's hand to do it.

He noticed Ken reach the curb and then stop, looking up with what appeared to be a faintly bemused expression, quickly replaced by joy. Blinking, Osamu looked up too, expecting to see a plane or a rainbow (even if there wasn't any rain) but finding nothing instead. Puzzled now, he looked back at his brother.

A sudden scream brought his attention back to the road he had stopped in the middle of – and his brother's reaction to himself.

* * *

It was a very odd feeling, being mad at his brother, but Ken couldn't help it. It was a vicious cycle; he felt bad for thinking – even for a moment – that life would be better without him, but at the same time he still clung to his brother's slap and the loss of his trust, which in turn made the spark of hatred entirely justified.

So he knew perfectly well it was childish, but he wasn't quite willing to forgive his brother. Going on about trust like that, and slapping him without even an apology – his lips twisted into a frown and a small bullet of pain shot through his neck at the thought. He shook it off though, remembering his brother did, much to his protest, bring him along for an ice before winter settled in, knowing how much he enjoyed them. Much more than ice-_cream_, although sadly the weather had to be more particular to enjoy one without the brain freeze becoming too much to bear.

He heard his brother calling at him to be careful, and he sighed. It really was impossible to stay mad forever. He couldn't have meant what he said after all, otherwise he wouldn't be taking him out like this, on their own and without parents…

He really wished his parents would pay more attention to him. And he wished Osamu had picked another time to get mad at him, although he couldn't possibly have known –

He froze, catching site of something in the sky and looking up.

_Is that..?_ he thought, eyeing the oddly shaped clouds, before smiling like a child whose birthday had come early upon confirming the shape. Wormmon: the first friend apart from his brother that he had ever had. It cheered him up immensely; there was little chance he'd be able to return to the Digital World for awhile – unless he stole the Digivice and he couldn't do that, or Osamu gave it to him and there was little chance, for the other probably wouldn't understand – and it was a comfort to know it, and Wormmon, were still there, waiting for him.

They had promised each other they'd go on a journey the next time they met, to find Ryo. He was probably off on a journey of his own, as safe as could be, but both of them would feel better if they saw the older boy with their own two eyes. Ryo was his third friend after all, and had become almost like an older brother during the Digital World. Someone who looked out for him the same way, scolded him when he did something foolish and comforted him when he was down. Somebody for whom he would do things without thinking –

He winced again as a stronger bolt of pain shot through his neck. It was bothering him again; it had for weeks, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had begun to hurt. Around the time he got sick, he thought, gazing thoughtfully at Wormmon's smiling face. So sick that time had melted into a blur and he could barely remember anything between fighting Milleniummon with Ryo and getting the news from Wormmon and Gennei about the older boy's disappearance, except something very fuzzy about an email that had turned out to be a setup of some kind.

It was after that trip that Osamu had caught him with the Digivice, when the news of the disappearance of one of his dearest friends was fresh in his mind. All in all, it hadn't gone well for either brother, and Ken sighed sadly, looking down again. He was sure Wormmon would be disappointed in him for being mad at his brother for so long. That wasn't kindness at all…but Wormmon had also said he was _too_ kind, to the point where he could get hurt because of it…

He lifted a hand, almost absently, to rub his neck, then snapped around at a sudden scream before biting back one of his own. Osamu was standing in the centre of the road, frozen and staring at an incoming car coming too fast to stop.

Suddenly, he forgot about his own little dilemma. 'Onii-chan,' he cried, bolting across the street and throwing himself on his brother, his body moving too fast for his brain to inform it that he had more than likely just made things worse. 'Watch out!'

* * *

For a moment, Osamu froze. He couldn't help it; it was human instinct…or human fallacy perhaps. It was hardly logical, but perhaps it simply took that long for adrenaline to kick in. But when those precious seconds could make the difference between life and death, it wasn't particularly welcome.

Especially since, by the time his body registered that he needed to move, he was off balance with his little brother firmly attached to his waist. And there was absolutely no way they would both make it off the road safely in time – unless by some miracle the car managed to swerve and avoid hitting them.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't believe in miracles, but he knew his brother did.

Then there were shocked murmurs around him, and hands steering them both away from the main road and he opened his eyes, heart thumping widely, to find the car lodged into a pole and themselves safe.

'Onii-chan! Onii-chan!'

As welcome as the voice was, Osamu winced at its pitch.

'What were you thinking, running across the road like that?' he scolded, and Ken's hands around him immediately loosened. 'I'm sorry,' he added automatically. 'I didn't mean it like that, but –' He put his firm hands on the other's shoulders. 'You could have been killed.'

Ken sniffed, and it was only then his brother realised he was crying. 'I wished you were dead,' he cried, burying himself into his brother's chest. 'And then you – then you –'

He didn't finish the sentence, and Osamu didn't ask him to. Instead, he just held his little brother close as everyone else swarmed around the car – and them.

It didn't occur to him to check on the driver, or the car. What mattered is that it hadn't hit them, because there was no doubt that if one of them got hurt, the other would have had a lot of self-blame to deal with.


	2. Cars and Worms

**The Bee and its Stinger**

**Chapter 2  
Cars and Worms**

Oikawa was not pleased. The current stage of his plan should have been a straightforward one. The timing was perfect: not three weeks after the spore had begun to sprout and Ichijouji Ken had had a falling out with his elder brother. It was the prime opportunity to cement those seeds and mould him into the perfect pawn – but he just _had_ to be so soft as to throw himself into the path of the oncoming car and almost undo all of their hard work.

Luckily, Arachnemon wasn't a complete dunderhead and had swerved the car – and scampered before being found in it. However, watching the brothers make up was more than simply frustrating, and how easily the little boy was able to forget his anger with his elder brother – even with the seed feeding it – spelt doom in any further planning containing that boy.

And it was impossible to find the other one; he had, simply put, vanished off the face of the earth.

The monitor stared at him, humming quietly. He had numerous programmes open on it, including a portal to the Digital World through which he had sent the Arachnid. It seemed to reach the limit of what the computer was capable of handling, because the data on the dark seed was taking an age to load.

It was good to know he would be getting a newer operating system at work in the coming weeks, and the old one would make an admirable replacement to his current one. A little extra hardware wouldn't go amiss either; it might be expensive, but well worth the investment.

For the meantime though, he had to tolerate the snail speed of his current system and the frustration that came with a failed plan.

'Surely the seed will start growing again,' he mumbled to himself, wishing he had the time or the resources to be able to keep a close eye on the boy. It wasn't as though he could install security cameras all over the home, and computing hadn't reached the era where it could do the spying by itself. The Digital World lent some assistance, but until he could enter the Digital World himself it would be a small help. And it wasn't as though he could accomplish much by sending Arachnemon or Mummymon into the Ichijouji's bedroom; they were hardly inconspicuous.

Thank goodness he worked with the Ichijouji's father, though unfortunately he had more of a tendency to talk about his other son instead. But Osamu was, without a Digivice, completely useless to him. It was Ken who was a Chosen, with a Digivice and a digimon…and the dark seed.

Now if only that seed would take root. Because if it didn't and he fell sick again…

He scowled, scrolling through the file as it finished loading. There had to be something in there that would help, because he refused to let his dream slip through the cracks of his fingers.

* * *

Nobody could believe it. The car was empty, and as the driver's door was smashed in it was inconceivable someone had managed to leave undetected.

Ken was over his scare (relatively speaking) and was looking curiously at the car. 'Do you think a ghost was driving?' he asked innocently.

Osamu couldn't help but laugh; who could with that cute tone? Sadly though, it wasn't possible that some ghost had been in the driver's seat. Or Fate out to get him – because until Ken had leapt on him, it had looked like he had been on his way to an early grave.

'No Ken,' was all he answered. 'We'll probably see some bloodied guy wandering around.'

He said that without thinking, and Ken whimpered a little. 'I hope not,' he whispered. 'That would be scary.'

He had forgotten his brother didn't like anything remotely picturesque of a horror film. Funny then how he could be said to pity ghosts…unless one looked at his pictures and found them to be the cute sort, reminiscent of an imported cartoon about a friendly ghost called Casper.

'Someone would have noticed,' Osamu pointed out. 'They're hardly inconspicuous.' At Ken's brow furrowing, he quickly amended: 'I mean, it would be pretty obvious.'

'Yeah, I guess so.' Ken put on his "thinking hat", as he so aptly described it. He was still at that age where the process of thought showed on one's face, and in this particular case, quite cutely too. 'But somebody had to drive then…right?' He blinked at his brother. 'Do you think it was a Digimon?'

'Digimon?' Osamu repeated. He'd never heard of those before. He almost asked if they were imaginary friends of his brother's, but thought against it. Since Ken had never mentioned them previously, it was possible it had something to do with the strange device and those two odd instances of flashing lights emitted by his monitor, in which case it might still be a fragile subject and better addressed over their ices…which he needed now more than ever.

It didn't seem Ken had heard his question anyway; instead, he was tugging on Osamu's sleeve. 'I think I can hear the police,' he said, sounding somewhat excited.

Osamu on the other hand groaned. There went those ices, as well as their hopes for a peaceful afternoon.

* * *

Ken's attention had been quite wildly diverted over the past half hour, between Wormmon appearing in the sky and the police grilling them both so thoroughly they had managed to annoy the elder Ichijouji. Ken himself hadn't minded so much; it was something new, and as thus naturally interesting, and beyond that they were paying attention to him as something more than a little figurine by his brother's side. Not that he wasn't proud of Osamu's achievements (even though he didn't understand all of them), but it was nice for adults to be asking him questions for a change.

Generally speaking, it was Wormmon asking the questions. And that thought reminded him to look up once they had finally managed to leave the scene behind (and Osamu managed to convince them that neither of them were in any way injured – whether physically or mentally – and they didn't need an escort home).

That also apparently reminded Osamu to ask as well. But before that…

'I'm sorry for hitting you.'

Ken stopped walking until a light push from Osamu sent him going again. Naturally, they didn't want to linger. It was noisy, now that a tow truck had come as well to remove the battered car, and the police were now trying to find out the identity of the driver.

The younger Ichijouji immediately felt guilty, remembering how he had felt and what he had said – and clung to.

'I'm sorry too,' he mumbled, eyes watering a little. 'I didn't want you to disappear. Really, I didn't.'

'Silly.' And there was a quick ruffle of hair. 'I knew that.' And Osamu quickly changed the topic; he wasn't the sort of person who could really handle emotional scenes. He was book-smart, but hardly people-smart…though he had quickly learnt how to act in the general society. 'So what did you see in the sky?'

'Wormmon,' Ken answered happily, more than willing to talk all about his new friend from the Digital World now that their disagreement was shoved behind them. 'He's my best friend. And afraid his brother might misunderstand, he quickly added: 'and so are you, and Ryo-san too…' His smile dimmed as he mentioned Ryo's name.

Osamu smiled, but shook his head at his brother's rambling. 'Best normally means only one.'

'Doesn't have to be,' Ken said stoutly. 'That's not very fair when you have to pick.'

* * *

Eventually, they managed to get their ices, a simple vanilla for Osamu and a multitude of bright colours for Ken. And by the time Ken's dish contained a puddle of liquid a colour neither could name and Osamu's was about dry, Osamu more or less understood what – or rather who – Wormmon was.

It didn't mean he could easily accept it though.

'You went through the computer?' he asked sceptically.

Ken shook his head, waving his spoon around before dipping it back into the dish. Even melted, the ices were delicious after all. 'I went through the _Gate_.' He emphasised the last word. 'I know it's crazy, but it's the Digivice. It opens the Gate somehow. I can show you even!' His voice rose excitedly, and Osamu quickly shushed his brother. Anyone listening into their conversation would think they were both crazy.

And maybe they were, but no-one knew Ken as well as Osamu did…except maybe this Wormmon he had never met and this Akiyama Ryo he couldn't for the life of him remember. Though what Ken had said defied almost every law of science in existence, Osamu knew his little brother really believed. He knew what Ken's made up stories sounded like and this was definitely not one of them – so it was either reality or an impossibly vivid dream, the latter less likely than the former.

And Ken, after establishing he had gotten that point across, was happily chatting about his adventures.

Osamu had to admit that if he ever got quizzed on the material, he would probably fail. It wasn't though he wasn't trying to pay attention, but things that didn't conform to logic he found very difficult to grasp and therefore remember. But it was Ken, and it was important to him, so he continued to listen carefully – and be suitably horrified every time he heard about his little brother getting into a dangerous situation.

And Ken was more than happy to tell it all. Chatting about the friends he had made and the enemies he had fought and some Milleniummon who sounded like a real jerk – albeit a childish jerk.

And all the while his melted snack continued to warm up and the sun slunk away beneath the horizon.


	3. A Little Digivice

**The Bee and its Stinger**

**Chapter 3  
A Little Digivice**

Osamu frowned at his top drawer. It was closed, but that didn't change what was inside. Most weren't particularly important; they were more things he reached for when he needed them. Spare exercise books. Spare paper. Spare pens, pencils, rubbers, rulers, staple pins and butterfly clips. Then there was the little sliding puzzle Ken had gotten him for his birthday that he played with when he needed a breather, plus a few odds and ends he tinkered with in his spare time. And lastly, the Digivice that had been initially intended to enter that very same place.

That was before Ken getting mixed up with it, and to be honest Osamu had no idea whether he should give the device to his little brother so he could return there at will, hang on to it so he would at least know when Ken disappeared, or get rid of it because of the inherent dangers he faced. Fighting monsters more than twice his size to save the world? That wasn't something an almost nine year old should be doing in his opinion, and it didn't sit well with the older brother part of him that Ken was marching into that sort of trouble.

He was still briefly considering the alternative, but thought it to be unlikely. The consequences of that would surely have seeped into his normal behaviour if that was the case, and now that the two brothers were past their little argument, Ken was as kind and understanding as ever. Asking for some money for fundraising chocolate once and then not again when their parents didn't hear, although Osamu had and later slipped him 200 yen. The next day Ken brought a slightly more expensive – and tastier –s bar he had been expecting and split it with his elder brother.

It would have been nice to enjoy it more, but he had been in the middle of something and sadly had to scorf it down. Still, chocolate was the sort of thing that tasted almost heavenly even when swallowed whole.

Neither of them had mentioned the Digivice then, although Ken had looked extremely quickly towards the drawer. He hadn't asked though, and Osamu was finding himself reluctant to offer.

Part of him was very concerned as to what sort of world it was. Ken's description made it sound like a fairy-tale land, where good always triumphed over evil and the hero (or heroes) were pure and naïve. In truth though Osamu thought those were the sorts of people who had difficulty surviving in the real world. They also reminded him of Ken – and therein lay his evidence as well. Ken's world far too often revolved around others, so much so that it was often difficult to see where the interests of the world ended and where Ken's own began. Like how diligently Ken studied when Osamu was occupied with his own books, and how he struggled to push his marks to the top of the learning curve. Or how he played with the tracks in the playroom on the ground floor of their father's work when the family went to visit – for often Osamu found himself swamped with admirers. Or how Ken weeded the garden with his mother and claimed to enjoy it…though Osamu suspected that that at least had to be for want of his mother's company than for want of the weeding itself.

Osamu didn't know when – or where – it had started. Maybe from all parents wanting their children to do their best at school – and his best had simply amounted to this. It would have been easier for Ken if his best hadn't set an impossible threshold – maybe easier on their parents too, because it did seem like they didn't know what to do with either of their children. But Osamu couldn't imagine himself still existing without the sweet image of innocence that was Ken.

Until less than a week ago, when he had snapped – and Ken had snapped right back. It had been so shocking that he had simply stared in silence as the other stormed off, because Ken really was like a sponge at times, collecting his ill-feelings and depositing them somewhere without anyone – not even he himself – noticing. The sort that could forgive anyone easily enough, could try and make friends with the most unlikely of people (which was what had prompted his own interest in martial arts like judo and kendo to begin with), and could go on without even realising they hadn't reached the inner surface of their heart where their true desires lived.

In truth, if this Digital World was a place that would lead him to grow up without losing the kindness that defined him, then he really shouldn't have a problem with it. But his problem went beyond the inherent dangers – and the fact that he wasn't there to protect him –

Actually, that was the crux of the issue: his absence. Because it sounded like a world where society ceased to exist, where only a few humans stood and they had to prove their worthiness to the true citizens of that land and fight for whatever honour they were given, not only with their minds but their hearts and souls as well. A place where people weren't ranked at schools, where it seemed one's life was set by the grades they made and the names they took…for already people were asking and presuming about his future, a future that was a good seven years away at the very least.

Funnily enough, Ken had pretty much hit the nail on the head, but no-one really noticed that. He hadn't said it to anyone else but Osamu after all, but Osamu couldn't help but think a policeman was a pretty good role for him. Not necessarily one dictated by academia, but a good role nonetheless. Just not one Tokyo would expect from their resident genius.

It was those expectations that were entrapping, but Osamu wasn't naïve enough to believe any other world could be free from that. Still, he would essentially be starting from scratch in such a world, and part of him longed to be able to at least escape there – for a time. Like a holiday resort, where the hottest part of summer could whistle away. Part of him envied his brother to be able to go there when he apparently could not; nothing had happened when he touched the Digivice after all but the reaction with Ken had been instantaneous. A dark bitter part of him wondered what he lacked that his brother apparently possessed. The rest of him was happy for his brother, but still wanted a part of that world. Somewhere away from the one where he lived, where it seemed expectation and routine was dominant.

And then there was the part of him which had difficulty in believing it still. While the possibility of other worlds wasn't exactly outlandish, it seemed inconceivable that a little kid had managed to wander into it when no-one else had. Billions of yen went into finding the possibility of other worlds, and years of research and overall hard work. Sure, serendipity played a role as it often did with major discoveries, but nonetheless it was a minor role. Luck favoured the prepared after all.

And then there was simply the fact that he was the older brother of the pair, and older brothers simply didn't like seeing their younger brother (or brothers as it may) grow up.

He thought about it all, weighing the pros and cons in his mind as the Digivice burnt a metaphorical hole through his drawer chest. And eventually he concluded that while he wasn't as good a person as his little brother, he couldn't stop the other from visiting his other friend.

Though he would have to put his foot down when it came to parading around the world; he'd go mad one way or the other.

* * *

'Really?!'

Osamu winced as Ken's voice seemed to reach an all-time high.

'Yes,' he sighed. 'Really, but –' He stopped, almost expecting the other to burst with excitement, but instead finding his little brother looking at him expectantly. 'No spending more than a few hours there – max. And I want to know when you're going so at least I know where you are, and no talking to any strange…Digimon, was it?' Ken nodded, though he looked a little muddled. 'And no getting into unnecessary fights and don't go making friends with everyone you see either –'

'I'm getting confused,' Ken confessed. 'I can't help it if someone wants to fight.'

'No, I suppose you can't.' Osamu sighed again; it seemed he did a lot of that, but explaining what he was thinking was always difficult. 'Though you could help trying to be friends with drug addicts.'

Ken furrowed his brow. 'I don't think the Digital World has drugs,' he mused.

'Or evil Digimon,' Osamu amended.

'But Wormmon said they weren't always evil.' Blue eyes peeked up innocently. 'Maybe if they had friends, they wouldn't be so bad. Even Milleniummon seemed so lo – ' He suddenly cut off, wincing and rubbing the back of his neck.

Osamu stepped forward and pushed the hair back, frowning when he found nothing under searching fingertips. 'Were you leaning too far forward?' he asked.

'I might have been,' Ken confessed.

'You know what will happen if you don't sit up straight,' the elder Ichijouji scolded lightly.

Ken nodded, wide eyed and no doubt thinking of the Japanese retelling of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. 'I'll try to remember,' he promised. 'It's just awkward to sit like that sometimes.'

It was; Osamu could assent to that, having been guilty many a time of bending over his books and winding up with a sore neck or a sore back afterwards. 'But promise to tell me whenever you go to the Digital World, and promise to be careful.'

'I promise,' Ken said solemnly, knowing his brother was serious. And his face mimicked the expression so accurately that if Osamu was any less composed a man – or a boy more accurately – he would have collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles, because there was something indescribably cute about seeing your own face three years younger and reflected back at you with an innocence long escaped.

'Alright, alright, you can have it.' Laughing, he put the device into Ken's eager hands. 'Just don't make me regret this.'


End file.
